Revalations
by Ciliegina
Summary: Hidden secrets from the past, unknown threats hiding around every corner. Old history may either be avoided to taken to a new extreme. Something ancient threatens the safety of the world, can anyone do anything to stop it?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_Having just finished __Pale Demon__ I found myself upset that I have to wait until February for the next book. My brain was still spinning with what had happened and my creativity levels running high I sat down to write and this was the product of it. Hopefully with have the next chapter up soon but I would love feedback, especially since the story involves and OC. I am really trying to avoid keeping her as a Mary Sue so feed back would be fantastic. So please review!_

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>** I do not own any of the characters or plot from The Hollows series. They are the copy writed property of Kim Harrison. This story is not used to gain any profit.**

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><p>So the elves had revealed themselves since having hidden their existence for 40 years from both Inderlanders and humans alike. I guess I should be relieved, but my mood was only soured. An elf and yet not at the same time, I didn't know exactly what I was or what my place in the world should be. So in fear, I hid, trapping myself in that fear and restraining my own talents so that I may fall unnoticed by most. I knew I should tell someone of at least my matriarchal origins, being from the elven line of the keeper of the book, but the mysteriousness of my father… Having other people find out exactly what I am frightened me, but the thought of finding out myself terrified me even more. I knew I should search for an answer, but the thought of finding out I was half of something completely evil, worse than a demon, always pushed me away from the possibility of the truth, so instead I lived my life pretending and hiding my potential and true nature from the world.<p>

Living in Lexington, Kentucky I was relatively easily able to succeed in hiding myself from the rest of the world. While I ran my own fairly large horse farm, it was nothing unusual for this part of the country, and wasn't especially successful since I would never let it get to be that large of an operation. No, that would draw attention to myself.

Like most elves, I loved horses and found that I worked well with them, and they with me. It made running a English style riding facility with a small breeding program, relatively easy and immensely enjoyable. Only when I was with my horses, and only my horses would I completely let my guard down. Their non-judgmental compassion the one thing that helped lessen my fears of myself. I often wished people could be that way, but it was built in most, especially humans, to fear the unknown, which I was the epitome of.

I lived alone, I always had since my mother had died when I was the tender age of seven. I'm not even sure she really knew who or what my father really was, so tended to be very overprotective of me, to the point of barely letting me attend the public school. She had been a pure elf, as my line demanded, similarly leaving me with no siblings. It had been that way for generations, whether the child is male or female; the book needed to be safely passed down through parent to child without fights that can be caused by sibling rivalry or jealousy. Somehow, when my mother passed away I managed to avoid being sent to the orphanage or put into the foster care system. As my mother tended to be very paranoid, she had given me strict instructions to be wary of others, and had kept every cent she had ever earned and anything of any valuable in a DNA protected safe within the house on the farm property we had owned. On her deathbed she set flame to herself, cremating herself live in attempt to hide her own death from the outside world so that I might be left alone. She was successful and no one was the wiser when I sent in money to pay the bills.

I continued through elementary, middle, and high school as the quiet girl with few friends but good grades. Those good grades put me through college at the local University of Kentucky where I subtly earned a degree in business. Throughout my first twenty-one years I had few friends, and the ones I did have were not very close and never really more than classroom buddies. But I was content, because I was safe, undiscovered, and I had three more loyal companions than I ever believed I could find in a person. Sye had been my first non-person friend. Osiris's Gift was her show name and she was a dappled gray quarter pony that my mother had gotten to teach me to ride when I was four. I had fallen in love with her shiny silver coat and pleasant attitude at meeting. She and I had many long peaceful rides in the undeveloped acres behind the house, and I credit that little pony with a big heart as the reason I was able to quickly at least pretend to move on when my mother died, even if my soul may have died a little with her. However, nothing is forever and I was forced to say goodbye to my first friend when colic took her at the late equine age of 26. After 11 years with her, I was heart broken to let her go, but as I had felt my mother's presence warming me 8 years earlier, Sye's warm embrace of goodbye and I love you helped move me past the sorrow and rejoice in my memories of her. Stark was a blue-merle Koolie dog, whom I had gotten when I was fifteen after Sye died. I had found that living on the farm without any animal companionship was disheartening and had found the puppy cold and abandoned on the side of the dirt farm road on my way home from school. Being needed was something completely new to me, as Sye had needed little extra nutrition than what the grass pastures had been able to give her, but Stark needed attention almost 24/7 his first few days with me. Having been abandoned, he was cold and malnourished, and I wasn't sure he would survive. But after a week of snuggling, hugs, kisses, and tears, he was completely healthy and as attached to me as I was to him.

After the tough academic high school years where I took every AP class possible in order to get a scholarship to college, a feat I was successful in, I bought Ivan, a black as night Warmblood cross with a small star on his forehead. He was my beautiful black beauty knock off with completely unknown breeding, huge talent, but green and seemingly lacking a fully developed brain. I had gone out looking for a calm horse that I could play with out in the fields, a quarter horse or paint preferably, but I had gone to look at him anyway. I hadn't ridden much English in the past, having not used a saddle at all most of the time. I fell my first time jumping him, but it didn't matter. I knew as he looked at me with a _'what are you doing down there?'_ expression on his face that he had picked me and that I absolutely needed to take him home with me.

He was a tough horse to ride at first, his focus coming and going, spooking at things no other horse would spook at, but he would do anything for me. He was the epitome of a momma's boy in horse form and through him I gained a love of English riding and especially of jumping. On good days he would help me where my riding was week, forgiving my faults and helping me despite them. On bad days he would get nervous and run at jumps afraid I would catch his mouth as past owners had abused. But I was patient on those days, and I rarely fell, and when I did I could see in his eyes as his stared at me on the ground that he was incredibly sorry and had never intended that to be the outcome. And I loved him even more for that, besides I was rarely hurt beyond a few bruises.

When I was twenty and Ivan eight, I came home from school to find him lying in the field, obviously having rolled, kicking at his stomach, and looking at it in pain. Fear had filled me; colic. The same thing I had lost Sye to, however I had only had Ivan for 2 years and he was far too young for me to be ready to say goodbye to. So instead of being the smart horse person I believed I was and making him get up and walk to try and get the colic to pass, I fell down on top of him and started sobbing, wishing that he would just be okay. And after about three minutes of crying, he nuzzled me off of his belly, got up, and resumed grazing like nothing had happened.

That was the first time I scared myself. The first time my paternal heritage and the possibility of what my father was and made me petrified me. I had never been a big user of magic, knowing minor ley line skills at best and I had always preferred the feel of the wind to the earth. Yet I had wished and willed for my horse to be okay and for the colic to just disappear and it did. It made me think about when I had found Stark. I cried and hugged him and told him it would be okay, when I feared otherwise, and against all odds, he was. That was when I understood that I might have the power to heal, an ability I had never heard of an elf having. That was when I fearfully wondered what else I could do, and I realized I really didn't want to know.

After I graduated college, I used my inheritance money to turn my property into a working horse riding facility. The money plus a degree in business helped me get Otepa Farms off the ground as a lesson facility. I had bought a handful of pleasant horses and ponies as school horses, horses that children immediately loved, and began to pass on my 18 years of equestrian knowledge. As the business grew I found myself wanting to branch out a little, buying a broodmare and breeding her to a local jumper stud. I found I loved having a foal around so I continued to breed two to three mares a year, selling the offspring after some training for a little extra cash. Like the name of my farm Otepa, which I took from the Greek (which was the only thing I knew of my father was that was his home country) word Φτερά, meaning wings, my farm had taken off to a point where I could live on my income and small enough to keep me under the radar. I had Stark and Ivan, who I now used in local shows, and I was content with my life. Maybe not truly happy, a fact I admitted and accepted, but pleasantly contented.

But there was one small fact that threatened to uproot and displace my entire life. Something that I couldn't run or hide from less it kill me like it took my mother. The book was a strong force that wasn't made to stay dormant. My mother had tried to disregard it and it slowly stole the life from her instead. It was an old book, a large part in aiding the elves in the war against the demons. Said to have been a gift to the elves from the angels before they migrated completely from this realm, the Biblio of Daimons was a collection of all known demons at the time, stating roles, strengths, and weaknesses. It had basically sat idle, like me, never reaching its full potential, being seen by few of great importance since my line had migrated to America. Thus leading to many of my ancestors dying before the age of 100.

As much as I feared sticking out, I feared death more. And even little isolated me could tell that times were changing. Elves were visible again, day-walking demons existed. I did not want to end up like my mother, abandoning my child. As strong as I was, I wouldn't wish my childhood on anyone else. Therefore it was time for me, Aria Danae Hallowell was going to have to leave my bubble of security and go to see the man who was looking to be the head of the elven race. I had to go see Trenton Kalamack.

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><p><strong>Please Review! Feedback is helpful and makes me inspired to write more!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plot from The Hollows series. They are the copy writed property of Kim Harrison. This story is not used to gain any profit.**

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><p><em>AN: Spoiler Alert for __Pale Demon_

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><p>The car was packed; the barn and the horses were being taken care of for the week by one of my older students. Stark sat in the passenger's seat, head out the open window ready to go. Yet, gripping the steering wheel tight I found myself unable to turn the key and start the truck. Turning that key would mean that I was really going to leave the safety of my farm and the familiarity of Lexington. Not that Cincinnati was that far away, only just across the river into Ohio, but in all of my twenty-four years I had never let Lexington, at least not really. I had never had a reason to leave, home was here, college was here, and being in horse country I rarely had to car far in search of a new equine friend. But now it had become more of a necessity than just simply a reason motivating me to leave and in the long run it was literally a matter of life or death. And with that thought I gathered my nerve and turned the key.<p>

Two hours and one rest stop later I was driving through the Hollows. Having heard about the mainly Inderlander suburbia, I found myself surprised to find quaint little neighborhoods and houses that seemed more like a middle class version of Wisteria Lane. Driving slowly as to take everything in, I nearly hit a parked car when I froze at the sight of a little white church with a brass nameplate fastened next to the wooden door. Regaining myself I sped past the building as a familiar fear began to consume me.

Vampiric Charms.

Rachel Morgan, the day walking demon.

Everyone had heard of the incident in San Francisco. I wasn't afraid of Rachel Morgan herself or even the fact that she was a demon. On the contrary, I think I respect her. In my mind actions speak louder than words, and while her blood may make her a demon her morals and soul make her a good person. However, Rachel Morgan being basically a new type of Inderlander and that spiking controversy as well as general public fear is why her name causes my fears and terrors to resurface in me. I could very well be in a similar situation if I put myself out there and was discovered for whatever I am. There is a fifty percent chance of my father having being something good, but it terrifies me that there is also a fifty percent chance that he was something with negative connotations, or was simply an evil being.

Yet here I was putting myself more on the radar than I had ever before in my life.

Sighing as I pulled into a motel parking lot I attempted to release all of the built up tension finding the feat currently impossible. However I forced myself to push past it, because if I allowed myself to be ruled by my fears, would I truly be any better than the ignorant humans of the witch trials era. I may only be directly impacting myself, but the general concept was still the same. Plus I would be hurting the elves as a population by keeping the book hidden. And even with Kalamack's "elven cure" the Angel virus had still decimated their numbers.

Checking in and unloading my things into my temporary home for the week, I finally began to relax, abet just a little. I had at least gotten myself here. Now came the hard part, figuring out some way to see Trenton Kalamack.

This had definitely not been one of my better ideas. Why I had thought I could get anywhere near Kalamack at the mayoral candidates' speeches, let alone get to talk to him was beyond me. Even with a relatively large personal space bubble, due in large part to Stark (who was attached to me via leash wrapped around my waist to prevent a repeat of the great doggie excursion of Upper Freehold), I felt incredibly claustrophobic. There were just so many people. Apparently coming out of the closet so to speak about being an elf had boosted his standings and popularity in the race. Either that or the baby had caused him to be more appealing to the masses, and I would put money on the latter being the reason seeing as the man on the platform screamed politician. His presence made me wonder if I was doing the right thing, offering him the knowledge of the book. But then again, who else could I give it to? The book was made to aide the elves, so only an elf could truly use it. Plus he must have completed a successful traditional baby snatching quest to be in possession of a child that he fathered with a woman he is not currently married to or in a relationship with. Such an act, I had seen detailed in the book, but had faded from the memories of most with the changing times. The book wasn't bound to only be utilized by those of the highest bloodline and was actually kept out of the hands of royalty sometimes in its history. It was meant to be used by a true leader, and Kalamack had led the elves back into existence, sort of. Rolling my eyes as he basically promised the world to the citizens of Cincinnati, I realized that while he may be full of shit, he was the best hope I had.

And dog-gone-it, after putting myself through this and leaving my safety bubble, I wasn't looking to die prematurely any time soon.

Standing back by the cars as reported mobbed Kalamack and the other candidates, I silently thanked that having tried to be invisible for most of my life had its advantages. Not pressing too near to Kalamack's limo, the event security had barely even noticed me passing. Granted I doubted they would let me get close, and I don't have the guts to even try them. I had gotten this far on a whim but now I literally had no clue what else I could do. If I did much in terms of a hand gesture, I would just be waved off as some rabid supporter. And on the slim chance he would even meet me with eye contact, I doubted I could convey any message at all through my eyes or body language, much less one of dire importance. I really had very little experience in conveying myself to other people, spoken or otherwise.

"Excuse me?"

The light tap on the shoulder plus the soft yet strong words jolted me. Turning I found myself faced with a petite woman with light golden wheat colored hair and striking green eyes. In them I recognized both strength and curiosity as they wandered over me, lingering on my slightly pointed ears (an elven trait that was diminished in me due to my paternal heritage, or so I assume). That wasn't unusual. Before elves were re-revealed to the world most people simply rationalized my ears on just being some genetic mutation that left me looking strange. They weren't anywhere near what a full undocked elf's ears would look like, like hers did. What surprised me was when her expression changed to that of utter shock and recognition when her blue eyes met my dark gray ones.

Before my mother died she had told me that when my family was given the book to keep and protect, we were also 'cursed' with dark gray eyes and a silver aura so that even if our name changed we could be easily identified and recognized. However, when the Hallowells migrated to the New World in the late 1700s to flee a power hungry elven duke who wanted to abuse the power of the book to summon demons to further his own nefarious wishes, my family went underground. Flying under the radar of most, I was told that like many old elven traditions, that the traits of the Hallowell line faded from the memories of most and that no one could possibly still know the signs after the Turn hit. Yet here stood an elf who clearly recognized what my stormy gray eyes meant. And judging by her agape mouth, it wouldn't have surprised me if she had slipped into her second sight to confirm that my aura was indeed silver. Astounded, shocked, curious, and afraid knowing someone knew and recognized my tells I found my lips moving by unable to make a sound.

The young woman simply shrugged off her surprise and smiled warmly at my flabbergasted self. "What brings you to Cincinnati, Ms. Hallowell?"

"H-How?" I stammered, finding my voice. "How could you possibly… My mother told me… told me that no one has really remembered since before the Civil War!"

She simply smiled at me and then knelt down to Stark who took this as an invitation to lay down on his back with his paws in the air. The stranger woman happily obliged my dog in his desired tummy rub. "I'm older that you imagine," she said simply as if it were the most insignificant thing in the world.

"Over two hundred? That's nearly impossible, even for an elf! Besides you couldn't be much past you're thirties."

Her expression darkened as she stood, " The body isn't truly alive when not occupied by the soul, impeding the aging process. Or are you not familiar with the concept behind undead vampires?"

"But… you're not a vampire, or undead. I can sense you still have your soul as well as your good intentions. Plus you have classical elven features that date back millennia. There's no plausible way for…" I finished trailing off. I had clearly angered her and it was stupid of me to not have figured it out before my fear of being known had caused my little outburst.

I knew demons had taken elves as familiars in the past, having read about it in the book. It wasn't technically against the rules for me to read the book; I was its keeper. Technically anyone was allowed to read it, but that often lead to the misuse of the information kept within its pages. That's why a strong and intelligent leader with good morals was required, so that the information could be used to benefit the elven race in a positive manor. Being a keeper compelled me to be sort of a judge of character, something I wasn't very good at. Plus its not like I was a muse that had an internal compass directing me to the person who would be most ideally suited to use the book, no it couldn't be that easy for me.

Being a familiar would explain the smut I had weakly sensed off of her, weakened by the fact that it wasn't created by her actions, and couldn't truly over take her noble being. I had offended an ancient elf, one that could potentially help me. The fear that caused my mini-explosion died instantly into shame and embarrassment. "I am so sorry… really," I began rambling. "It never occurred to me that you could have been, um, a demon's familiar. The book says that familiars were often never seen again and therefore… a, um, lost cause. That only death could release them," I finished eyes fixed on the pattern of the sidewalk.

My ramblings had caused her anger to fade, but the hurt was obviously still lingering. I could tell she was a proud woman, not evil I doubted my accidental offense had changed her good intentions towards me. But then again, I had confirmed that I was the keeper of the Biblio de Daimons.

"Uh, my name is Aria Hallowell, but you already knew my last name. Again I'm terribly sorry I never meant to offend you. And I am, uh, glad to see that you escaped alive?"

"I owe my escape to another actually. My name id Ceridwen Dulciate, but please call me Ceri, " she finished extending her hand.

I took it timidly, and I think she noticed. "Sorry I don't really introduce myself much. Or communicate person to person a great deal either for that matter, so I am not very good at this."

"Then it seems you would need some practice before you meet Trenton."

"How'd you know that I want to talk to him?"

"Besides the fact that he is the obvious choice, you've been standing her watching him like a hawk."

I felt my checks redden. Perhaps I wasn't as invisible as I thought I was.

"Where are you staying?"

The question took me off guard. "Uh, a motel in the Hollows. Why?"

Her face pinched for a moment in thought. "Go back, collect your things and check out. I have to go get Ray and check on Keasley, but I'm sure he would mind, especially with the guy around, " she finished giving Stark and affectionate pat on the head.

She was smiling knowingly, but I probably looked like I had just been told that Were Lynx had been discovered in Antarctica based on how confused I was.

"What?"

She took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it before handing it to me. "Meet me at this address as 6 p.m. It will help with you're people skills."

Considering I had survived for over two decades without being dissected like a lab frog, I thought that my communication skills we're fine just the way they were, something I didn't get to tell her before she continued, "You need a place where Trenton won't put up any fronts so you can get a clear understanding of everything before you finalize any decisions." She smiled. "See you at six o'clock Aria."

I kept looking between her retreating back and the little piece of paper as she entered a car that had been waiting for her and drove away. I barely heard Stark barking in the background.

"What?"

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><p><strong>Please Review! Feedback is helpful and makes me inspired to write more!<strong>

**~*~*~Ciliegina~*~*~**


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